


Kreacher, a Matchmaker?

by GaeilgeRua



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Matchmaking house-elf, Mild Language, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 12:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16787056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaeilgeRua/pseuds/GaeilgeRua
Summary: Finally forced together by a magical holiday parasite and an unwitting house-elf, an unusual couple gets entangled, and passions are ignited.





	Kreacher, a Matchmaker?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keelhaulrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelhaulrose/gifts).



> Written for Melting Pot 18's Have Yourself A Merry Little Exchange 2018.
> 
> Prompt: first experience of mistletoe

Sirius had seen and done a lot of things in his thirty-nine years, or was it forty-five? He was never really sure what number it should be because of the time he spent beyond the Veil.

The Healers at St. Mungo’s had told him that he hadn’t aged a day while he was floating along in the misty darkness before the Veil unceremoniously spat him back out, but apparently, the Ministry was going based off his date of birth. But that was neither here nor there he reminded himself as he stood in front of the young witch he was trapped with beneath a rather gnarly piece of mistletoe Kreacher had grudgingly hung in Grimmauld Place. He’d have to buy new decorations for next year, he noted.

This wasn’t his first time beneath the magical holiday plant, nor was it likely hers, but he had somehow gone the last five years since returning without swapping a kiss for his freedom with a witch or another wizard.

“I’ve never done this before,” she whispered as she looked up at him from beneath her long, dark lashes.

A black eyebrow reached for his hairline. A hairline that Sirius would vehemently argue was  _ not _ receding.“You’re twenty-five, and you’ve never kissed a bloke before?”

She rolled her eyes and smacked his chest. “No, you arse! I’ve never been kissed underneath the mistletoe.”

_ ‘Looks like I was wrong,’ _ Sirius mused as he covered his chest where she hit him and sent her a surprised expression. “Ow, love! No need to be so violent,” he joked.

“Sometimes it’s the only way to keep you in line, it seems like,” she countered.

He smirked. “Well, I do like some pain with my pleasure.”

“Looks like I’m in good company then.”

Sirius’ grey eyes widened at her admission. “Hermione Granger, a closet masochist, too?”

She grinned wickedly. “Oh no, I’m not a masochist. Not completely at least.”

“Fuck, love,” Sirius groaned. “You’re a switch?”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Does that surprise you?”

Sirius started to answer, but stopped and took a moment to think it over. “No, no, it doesn’t.”

“Good,” Hermione said as she reached up to tangle her fingers in his shaggy salt and pepper hair. Tugging on the soft strands, Hermione pulled Sirius’ head down as she rose up on her toes. They met halfway, and Hermione sighed into the kiss when Sirius nipped at her bottom lip. Pulling back slightly, Hermione lowered herself back to flat feet.

Sirius followed her, stopping with his lips a hair’s breadth away. “I’m not done with you yet, love.”

Hermione snickered. “Good, because I’m not done with you either.”

She crashed her lips against his before pressing Sirius against the wall behind him.

Sirius eagerly returned her kiss, his hands slipping around her waist to pull her closer.

“Oi!” Ron exclaimed from the doorway of the front room where the remaining partygoers had been relaxing and chatting.

“Get a room, you two!” Harry added.

Hermione waved her hand over her shoulder, causing the duo to laugh.

“Don’t mind if we do,” Sirius said tearing his lips from Hermione’s.

She trailed open-mouthed kisses and nips down his neck.

Sirius slipped his hands over her arse and down to grip the back of her thighs. He easily lifted Hermione, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist. “You lot can show yourselves out.”

The witch in his arms pulled him back for another kiss. Ignoring his guests, Sirius started towards the stairs.

“Sirius Black!” Molly admonished. “Put her down this instant!”

“Why?” Andromeda questioned.

“She’s too young for him,” Molly started to say, but stopped at the look on the other witch’s face. She tried a different tactic. “What about the party?”

“Molly, you’re not mum to either of them, and they’re both consenting adults. Obviously, the age difference doesn’t matter to them, so it shouldn’t matter to you. Leave them alone,” Andromeda reminded her. “Plus the party was winding down anyway.”

The small group of lingering partygoers turned and watched the couple as Sirius started to make his way up the flight of stairs with Hermione still wrapped around him. They had broken their kiss so Sirius could concentrate on not knocking them down.

“But, he’s old enough—”

“Molly-wobbles, don’t. She’ll be fine,” Arthur said, wrapping his arm around his wife’s shoulders.

“And what about the mess?”

“Kreacher can do it,” Ron replied.

Arthur flicked his wand, setting the room to rights and with a swish and another flick, the rubbish was floating towards the bin. Once the room was clean, he looked down at Molly. “There, good as new.”

Molly started to say something, but her daughter’s voice cut her off. “Mum, don’t worry about Hermione. She’s right where she wants to be.” At Molly’s questioning look, Ginny elaborated, “She’s fancied Sirius for a while now.”

“I think the same thing can be said for Sirius,” George added. “Come on, everyone. Let’s leave the two lovebirds alone.”

“It’s a good thing I was planning to stay at The Burrow tonight,” Harry mused as he followed everyone back into the front room where they Flooed to their respective homes.

The last of the Christmas Eve partygoers finally dispersed to their own homes knowing they would see each other again tomorrow for the big feast Molly had planned at the newly renovated Burrow.

Once everyone was gone, Kreacher popped into the hallway. He looked up and vanished the gnarled mistletoe with a snap of his fingers. Disappearing once again, he left behind the rest of the moth-eaten decorations he’d found in the attic.

Soon the house was nearly silent. The only sounds that could be heard were Sirius’ groans weaving with Hermione’s muffled words, the telltale slap of a hand against his arse, and later the rhythmic thud of Sirius’ headboard against the wall and the faint sound of bells jingling in the night sky.

* * *

The next afternoon, family and friends were gathered around tables at the Burrow, devouring Molly’s delicious cooking.

As Hermione popped a piece of buttered roll into her mouth, Ginny leaned over and questioned, “So, did you have fun last night?”

The brunette witch chucked as she finished her bite. “I was wondering how long it would take you to start asking.”

“Well!” Ginny demanded. “Don’t leave me hanging!”

Hermione leaned over and whispered in Ginny’s ear, “He’s a sub to my Dom.”

The redhead’s eyes widened. “No!”

“Oh yes,” Hermione said.

“I would have thought he was a Dom,” Ginny mused as she glanced at the wizard in question. He was sitting across the table from them between Andromeda and George, in an in-depth discussion with his cousin.

“Nope,” Hermione said, popping the end of the word. “And I can’t wait to see what else he has up his sleeve.”

She winked at Ginny, and the two witches fell into a fit of giggles.


End file.
